Endgame
by Grendel's Arm
Summary: This is some tiny glance right into the future. To be precise: the moments after the match between Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins at "Hell In The Cell" (already a highly likely possibility that this will happen). There are some mentions of William Regal. And it's rated T because of some swearing.


_**I've already published this story under the title "When It Is Over" on Tumblr. I just thought that this title was a bit unwieldy so I've changed it. Have written this little piece right after their match at SummerSlam. Hope you enjoy it. Or cry upon it. Whatever, leave me a short note about what you think. Thanksss!**_

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><p>One – two – three.<p>

The crowd went orgiastic when Dean Ambrose finally got his win over Seth Rollins. A clean one after a hard fought fight. He should celebrate it. He should be happy. But instead, he felt empty and sad.

It was the same feeling when he got his win over William Regal. But it didn't feel like that. What is the meaning of a win, when you've lost something more essential in the process? Someone more essential?

The same mistake made twice. His heart ripped out for a second time. Dean didn't know that this was even possible. But it was. And now he slapped away the arm from Charles Robinson who was just about ready to raise it after his big, big win.

Dean felt cynicism making his throat taste bitter. And he felt that he needed to say something. Badly. He rushed through the ropes, grabbed a microphone and started to talk his soul out.

"Yes, Seth, I've won. I finally beat you. And seeing you lying there, should made me happy and proud. But you know what? I'm not. Neither. Because, that's not what I've wanted. I still loved you, Seth. You were not just a friend. You were my brother. But do you want to know what I'm feeling right now when I look at you?"

Seth finally started to move to raise his head to look at Dean.

"I feel nothing. Because, there is no feeling left for you, not even hate. I might have won the fight. But you have won the war. Congratulations, Seth. You've finally got what you've wanted right from the start. Keep your bloody briefcase. Keep it and cash it in. I don't care anymore. But don't expect any blessings or good wishes. Because from now on I'll act like you wouldn't exist."

The microphone went the same way like it did for a couple of times now: up in the air and after a few moments and gravity did its piece, it landed somewhere on the floor behind Dean. But the man was already gone up the ramp without any look back.

Seth instead felt like he had two hearts beating in his chest. It was this moment when he finally noticed that this wasn't what he wanted. All this chasing, the beat-ups and anger towards Dean were just him trying to live a new chapter in his life, a new chapter with powerful people, with ruthless people that would bring him success.

The moment they had turned their backs against The Authority – when they were still The Shield – there was only icy headwind blown towards them. Running against the storm feels good for some time but you get tired and weak, and at some point you want to feel that power again. You need to gain something again to feel alive. But what exactly did he gain in the last couple of months being with The Authority?

Seth almost automatically grabbed his briefcase and pressed it hard against his chest like it really was some meaningful replacement for Dean. Then, he felt himself running after his former friend and brother. And he just about went to him, when he was about to disappear backstage.

"Dean, I…" Seth could only gasp after the hard beating he had received just moments ago. But he got Dean's attention. The older man stopped but didn't turn around.

"Dean, I just… you can't end it this way. I was just playing. I was acting, you know? I was looking for something to achieve. But you didn't let me do my thing. I recognize now that I miss something… that I miss someone – already. Just, don't go, alright?"

Finally Dean turned around and looked straight into begging eyes. But his own look remained cold. He still felt nothing while looking into these big brown puppy eyes. And somehow this felt great. Because, these eyes couldn't hurt him any longer.

"So, now you recognize, Seth, right? Now you recognize! Congratulations, again. Must be a great day for you with your mind enlightening you in such an enormous way tonight. It's just too late. Because I've also recognized something: you ripped my heart out like fucking William Regal. Do you even know, how that feels? Do you even know, how it feels when you don't get an answer, when you don't get something back, no matter how loud you scream and beg and whine? It's too late for you, Seth, because I've just got my own little victory: seeing you beg for me makes up for the last hurtful months. It makes up just a tiny bit. And I won't let you steal this moment from me again."

And with his last word, Dean turned around again and finally went backstage. He didn't feel great after his harsh words towards Seth. He still felt nothing. And this was the best feeling after these three months of pain.

_**finis.**_


End file.
